


Home With You

by rosebudbois



Series: Carry On Countdown 2018 [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Nostalgia, Post-Watford (Simon Snow), School Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-30 02:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16756039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosebudbois/pseuds/rosebudbois
Summary: Baz and Simon go back to Watford for a school reunion and end up back in their old room.day 2 of the carry on countdown - nostalgia





	Home With You

**Author's Note:**

> thanks (again) to @mintaero and @neck-mole (on tumblr) for editing this on such short notice!

**BAZ**

“I thought school reunions were only for Normal schools. Or Americans.” Simon says. He’s hanging off my arm and dragging his feet in the snow. He’s been doing that since we left the car, probably in the hopes that it’ll make us late to the party. The complaining, though? That started as soon as Penny mentioned our year was having a reunion back at Watford.

He was reluctant to go at first, but he caved after Penny and I pestered him enough. I understand why he doesn’t want to go back, though. It’s been five years since the Leaver’s Ball and he hasn’t even stepped foot on the grounds. Not even when we dropped Mordelia off last year. Simon _loves_ Mordelia.

While we understood his hesitance, Penny and I agreed it might be good for him to go back. To see how much better it’s running now that it’s not the evil place he once thought it was. Not with the Mage gone.

“Like,” _Oh, here we go again_ , “reunions are fun and all for people who actually _enjoyed_ being at school, but neither of us had the best time here. Y’know, with you being turned in the nursery, and the Mage sacrificing Ebb then trying to kill me.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I’d almost forgotten.” I pull him closer to me, wrapping my arm around his waist to try and steal some of his warmth. Being a vampire has never been ideal, but it’s even worse in the cold months.

It’s a few days into winter break. All the students have gone home, and now there are dozens of 23-year-olds gathering in the dining hall. This reunion wouldn’t be happening if Penny wasn’t the one organizing it. Her mum--the new headmaster--would never let a bunch of adults get completely wasted on school grounds if it weren’t for Penny watching over them.

The rest of the walk to the Weeping Tower is quiet, save for the snow crunching beneath our feet. We’re about to walk in the door when Simon stops. I look down at him, but his attention is elsewhere. He’s looking in the opposite direction of the Weeping Tower, towards Mummers.

“Do you think—”

“It’s worth a try.” I interrupt, already knowing what he’s thinking. I pivot us around and we head for Mummers. I’m sure Penny will forgive us for being late.

Simon stays quiet all the way there and on the walk up the narrow staircase. We can’t fit on it standing side-by-side, so I let him walk ahead of me. I go to pull out my wand so I can open the door, but then stop. Simon has adjusted to living without magic, but I know it still upsets him when I use it casually. Besides, there’s another way to get into the room.

“Do you have your pocket knife on you?” I come up behind him and rest my chin on his shoulder, watching as he digs around in his coat pocket.

After he lost his magic, he couldn’t summon the sword anymore. I think losing that was worse for him than losing magic. He was always swinging that damn thing around—much more than he was with his wand. I couldn’t stand seeing him instinctively reach for his hip any longer, so I bought him a pocket knife. I even got it engraved. It’s a sorry replacement for the sword, but he hasn’t gone anywhere without it since.

He flicks open the knife, and before I can stop him—I was planning on being the one to open the door—he slices the pad of his thumb and presses the cut against the stone. He pulls it back, leaving a little splotch of blood, then sucks on his thumb while we wait for the door to open. It seems slower than it used to be, but when it does open, Simon turns to flash a grin at me. He steps forward and pushes the door open, and I follow.

What I’m met with is… not what I was expecting. Where there should be unmade beds and litter scattered across the floor is a spotless bedroom, save for the dust covering every surface. A quick peek in the bathroom shows me that there’s nothing in there either. Nothing in here is giving me reason to believe that anyone even lives in this room. Or has lived in this room.

Simon walks to the window and runs his finger along the sill.

“Is it just me, or are you getting the feeling that something is off about this?” He says, inspecting the dirt collected on his finger, then wiping it across the back of his trousers—something I always scold him for, but I don’t think he’ll ever stop doing.

But he’s right, I am getting that feeling.

Simon sits and lays back on what used to be his bed, stirring up a cloud of dust. He coughs and waves his arm around to clear it as I sit across from him on my own bed. I’m more careful to not disturb the sheets as much as he did. I have to shove my knees between his own for us to fit.

After a few minutes of silence, Simon sighs and sits up to rest his elbows on my knees and place his chin in his hands. I rest my hand on his head and play with his curls. He relaxes further into his palms.

Lucky for me, after we left Watford, Simon stopped shaving off his curls every summer. Lucky for him too, I guess, because he seems to like it when I run my fingers through them. Which is something I’ve been doing a lot more with how unruly it is. My fingers are the only thing close to a comb that birds nest sees.

We sit for a few moments, listening to the faint chatter echoing across the lawn and through the window Simon cranked open earlier. It must be a habit, because it’s fucking freezing outside. I think he might be asleep now, and I’m about to doze off as well. That is, until the door slams open. It hits the wall behind it with a bang, and Simon jolts back at the sound. He brings his hand to his hip and his face falls as soon as he realises.

He hasn’t done that for a while. Definitely not since I got him the knife.  It must be because we’re back in the room.

“There you boys are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Penny stands at the end of the beds with her hands on her hips, shooting us an accusing glare. “Should’ve known you two would end up here.”

“Has the party started?” Simon asks, voice sounding rough from how relaxed he was only seconds ago.

“It’s just about to. Let’s get going.” She takes a hand off her hips and waves it toward the door.

I stand up and grab Simon’s hand, pulling him with me.

Penny starts to rush out the door, but I stop her with a hand on her arm before she gets far. “Hey, what’s the deal with this room?”

“Huh?” She asks as she turns back around.

“Why’s it so like,” I sweep my hand in front of me to motion to the room, “empty.”

“Oh, that.” She puts her hands in the pockets of her dress and speaks hurriedly, “I think mum mentioned that. I don’t know all the details, but something about the room not letting anyone in after our last year? Apparently it’s never happened with any of the other rooms, just yours. But we don’t have time to talk about that. I’m going back to the party and you better be right behind me.”

And with that, she’s out the door, and Simon is turning to me with another shit-eating grin on his face.

“Did you hear that?” He lets go of my hand and moves to wrap his arms around my waist instead, tilting his head to look up at me. “The room loved us so much it literally doesn’t want anyone else to live in here.”

I drape my arms over his shoulders and look around the room. Crowley, so much happened here. This was the place where it all began. It makes me feel sick to my stomach at all the chances there were for things not to end up like this. All the times Simon or I could have died. I shouldn’t be thinking about that right now though, because we made it here. And besides, why focus on that when I could embarrass Simon about all the dumb shit he did in this room?

“Remember in sixth year when you ate that sandwich from under your bed? You thought I didn’t see because I was sitting at my desk, but I definitely did.” Simon pushes back from me and he’s pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

“There is no way you saw that!” He protests, which only confirms what I already knew.

  
“So you admit it happened?” I raise my eyebrow and he tracks the movement. I can’t tell if he hates it or loves it when I do that. Maybe a bit of both.

“There’s no going back now. Merlin, Baz. You’re the worst.” He laughs and shakes his head. 

“I’m not the one who ate a sandwich off the floor.” He playfully shoves my shoulder at that, burying his face in his hands. I pull them away and place my hands on his cheeks instead. “Hey, I’m just messing with you. I am curious though… how did it get under your bed in the first place?”

At that, he pushes me back onto the bed I’ve been standing in front of. The dust rises up again, and he only makes it worse when he jumps to lay next to me. He grabs my hand and laces our fingers together, bringing our hands to rest on my chest. It’s quiet again as we stare at the ceiling.

“It is a shame though.” Simon drops his head to the side to look at me.

“What is?”

“That such a nice room is going to waste. I mean, really, this has to be the best room at Watford. It’s huge! We got the coolest room at Watford and now that we’re gone it’s just sitting up here with no one in it.” He lets go of my hand and rolls over onto me, pushing up on his elbows so he can look me in the eyes.

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that I do not trust one bit. He folds his arms across my chest and lowers his chin onto them, staring me straight in the eyes. It’s almost like a challenge.

As much as I’d love to stay here forever with him, we can’t. “We have to get to the party. Penny will murder us if we’re late.” I say, but make no move to get up. Instead, I drop my hand on his lower back and hold him against me.

Simon always does this. He’ll stand there—or in this case, lie there—and stare at me with his stupid puppy dog eyes. Usually, he doesn’t even need to say what he wants, because I already know. He does it all the time, and I’m never going to stop falling for it.

“Simon, you’re killing me.” I drag my hand across my face, then drop it to join the other on Simon’s back.

He shuffles so he’s laying completely on top of me and I know I’ve lost even before he opens his mouth. “Okay but hear me out. If we could get the room to hate us, then maybe it would open its doors up for some new kids. You don’t want to deprive some poor teenagers of the coolest room at Watford, do you?”

Well, when he puts it like that…

“Fine. How do you suggest we make the room hate us?”

“I have a few ideas.” The cheeky grin on his face grows. I make a mental note to apologize profusely to Penny when we finally do make it to the party.


End file.
